So there was a job posting at work and Daniel told me about it. I told him that he should apply. Not necessarily because he will get it, cause who knows, but from things he was told after his last application makes it sound like its good to get your name out there.
So after stressing some he got his resume updated and completed a dreaded cover letter.
He doesn't like cover letters. Its complicated. (those are his words)
And he has an interview Tuesday at 11am. Scary, scary!
Rachel and Jesse are coming to visit this weekend. Yay! We are gonna be kitchen-ing it up and cooking all morning. As in, we are gonna make lots of food you can pull from the freezer and skillet or microwave. I don't think skillet is ever a verb, but I used it that way.
The plan is: french toast sticks, burritos, roast, fajitas, um and I think maybe something else, but I can't be sure. I have a notebook all prepped with recipes as well as things I want taken care of before Saturday. That includes making a pile of tortillas. Homemade tortillas are Muy Bueno, plus if I make like 50 of them toward the end they might look all perfect. Maybe. Before they skillet themselves. (Thats twice, one more time and I have made that word mine...even though its not recognized by Miriam Webster or Wikipedia as you Panheads all know)
Um, so I am at a loss for what to write. Maybe I should just go get the clippers and cut Daniel's hair. Gotta look good for the panel of supervisors...you know so he can't hide behond his hair in shame. Face them with shame boy! Do it!
*Note* All referances for shameful facing are not going to be true! Hopefully. Unless its shamefacedness. Then totally.